Aegis of Two
by 12Pt.FontTruths
Summary: The "War to End All Wars" has ended nothing. In a time of crisis, two heroes converge when humanity starts to tear itself apart again. Old memories, new experiences, and timeless stories dominate the battlefield as both Wonder Woman and Captain America meet in Nazi occupied France. The French Resistance couldn't get more interesting. MCU and DCEU AU. Based off a post.


**A/N: This was based off a Tumblr prompt I came across after I watched** _ **Wonder Woman.**_ **I came home obsessed with this movie and this post touched off something. Inspirations for scenes/ characters include** _ **Captain America: The First Avenger, Battlefield 1, and Au Revoir Les Enfants**_ **(highly recommend this movie. It's a tearjerker though).** **I haven't written fanfiction for well over a year so constructive criticism is welcome. Unfortunately, I also haven't watched** _ **Captain America**_ **in well over five years so he may be OOC. I also do not read the comics so all characters are based on their cinematic iterations. I apologize for all OOCness and if I do not tag this fic accordingly. All mistakes are my own.**

 **I dedicate this fic to my sister lol. Best of luck at school.**

 **Standard disclaimer applies. I do not own any of these characters.**

* * *

 _Love is like war...easy to start...difficult to end...and impossible to forget._

‒ _Unknown_

* * *

 _1934_

"Ernest, I've brought your lunch."

The old, withered man in front of Steve Rogers nodded faintly. Steve let his eyes run slowly over the elder's leg that ended as a stump where the knee should have been. The man stared off into space, lost in thought.

"Steve."

Steve met his mother's kind smile. She nodded and mouthed some words before bustling away to help another patient. _Help him eat._ Gingerly picking up the spoon, Steve scooped up some of the unidentifiable mush and tentatively brought it closer to Ernest's mouth.

"Young man, don't worry about me."

Ernest's sudden declaration startled Steve that he did end up dropping the spoon. Ernest leaned forward and gave him a wan smile. "Would you like to hear a story, boy?"

Steve felt mildly uncomfortable, but couldn't bring himself to say no. "If it pleases you, sir."

The man chuckled. "I thought so. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Steve Rogers, sir."

"A fine name! Just like my old boy Mr. Smith. Had his brains blown out at the Somme unfortunately." Steve shifted uncomfortably at Ernest's casual mention of violence. "The war to end all wars, my ass. I was _lucky_ that I even survived. Even _luckier_ that they let me come to your country to recover and get me some better treatment. My leg's been acting up and the damn doctors couldn't figure out why." It was only then that Steve realized Ernest had a slight English accent. "But son… I was luckiest at Veld."

"Veld?"

"This tiny village in the middle of nowhere, somewhere along the western front. We'd been shooting at those blasted Jerries for over a year. For what? For shit, I tell you."

There was a heavy silence as Ernest bitterly reminisced. "It was a terribly, awful day. Cloudy and the rain flooded the trenches again. Some poor, old lady was wailing away like no tomorrow. We couldn't get that woman out of the hellhole no matter what we said. Didn't understand a single word." Steve reached over to readjust the pillows behind Ernest. He discreetly noticed Ernest's hands trembling. "Then out of nowhere, Lady Britannia swept through."

"Lady… Britannia? Like the goddess… of the British Empire?"

"Mmm hmm. Decked out in all her blue and red glory. A metal suit forged from the heavens and a shield from the ancients."

"But Ernest," Steve gently interrupted. "Britannia is only a…symbo‒"

"I know what I saw son. She went over the top, crossed No Man's Land, and took the trench we had spent a whole god damned year trying to capture. Deflecting bullets and sprinting across the hell we could only crawl across. She was like an angel sweeping across the battlefield, I tell ya… Angel of Veld, Lady Britannia, whoever she was." Ernest paused and then scoffed. "Our officer told us to stay put, but we couldn't let a _woman_ outdo us, even if she was Lady Britannia herself. Hell, she was taking a real good kicking with all the machine guns. If you never seen machine guns at their full capacity, you don't know war. We needed our own slice of glory. So you know what I did son?"

Steve shook his head.

"I damn well went over the top. All my friends did. We might as well have, with Lady Britannia absorbing all the bullets. Our officers told us to 'stay down' and ignore Britannia. Would've skinned us if we came back alive." Ernest laughed hoarsely. "And I still stepped on a damn land mine. Blew off my whole leg it did. I can still feel it sometimes." Steve's eyes slowly drifted down as Ernest absently rubbed his leg stump. "And who wouldda thought that it was a blessing."

"...Blessing…?"

"I was carted behind the front to have my leg sawed off. When I came to a few days later I found out the damn Jerries had gassed everyone. No remorse. Never saw any of them again." Old anger flared in Ernest's eyes and Steve watched the fire burn. Steve almost jumped when Ernest brought a heavy fist onto his bed. "The drums of war will soon start beating again son. May Lady Britannia save your young, wretched souls like she did for us."

The two fell into a somber silence. It was only interrupted when Steve's mom drew open the curtain. "Ah Steve! Bucky's looking for you. I'll show you out. Hello Ernest. I hope Steve kept you good company." Ernest nodded mutely, but didn't say anything. His eyes were glassy.

Steve stepped out and his mom gave him a concerned look. "Did he tell you his Lady Britannia story?" Steve nodded and his mom sighed. "Of course. He tells that story to anyone who'll listen. Unfortunately, he had a case of shell shock after the Somme too. Somehow he made it back onto the front. The doctors say he's senile and on his way out. Take his words for a grain of salt, ok Steve?"

"No problem mom."

Steve's mom's smile was warm. "Thank you for helping out today. Bucky's waiting downstairs."

The story was so mythical and unreal that Steve wanted to dismiss it so badly. However, Steve had grown up on stories of heros, ordinary and extraordinary people defying the odds to stand for their country. His own father had taken up arms to do so. So when Steve left the dreary hospital in 1934 at the young, innocent age of 16, he wanted nothing more than to find out more about the "Angel of Veld." For two years, he tried to find more survivors or first hand accounts, but every lead turned out dry. It was in a quiet corner of the library, by random chance that he stumbled across a photo of her standing with four other men, each as different as the last. It left him utterly awestruck. Right in front of his eyes, there was photographic proof of the so called myth. However, when he tried to look deeper into it, there were claims that the photo was staged. None of the subjects were ever found and confirmed. Yet, Steve _believed._ It was all he could believe in after his mother's death. When he gently touched the photo, he could feel the power she emitted. Her eyes were fierce, but also kind and joyous. There was a certain innocence that had yet to be corrupted by war. So Steve held onto the little ray of hope. He became so entrenched that even James "Bucky" Barnes noted how enraptured Steve was five years later.

XXX

 _1941_

"It's rare to see you so invested in a woman Stevie. You should introduce her to me once you find her," Bucky quipped lightheartedly.

Steve waved the smoke away from his eyes as he squinted in the low light of the bar. "Come on Bucky. You know I've already told you how all traces of her seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. Even the photo is 'fake.'"

"Haha, I know, I know Steve. I was just thinking, thinking… that you should, uh, settle down you know?"

Steve fell silent at Bucky's proposal. "How could you propose something like this when we're about to go to‒"

"I enlisted Steve."

Steve felt the air in his lungs leave. He felt like he had been sucker punched. "What?"

"I enlisted."

"Without me?"

"I can't stand by and watch the Nazis trample over whatever they want, Steve. It's my duty."

"You mean you enlisted even after I told you I was rejected?"  
"Ste‒"

"Don't you think I was _devastated_ when they said I was in no shape to fight? Don't you know how that tore me apart? I'm just as American are you ar‒"

"Goddamn it Steve! Would you just listen to me? This war isn't some glorious thing you should want to run into! You of all people should know this after your dad's death and obsession with some fairy tale about an angel in the goddamn Great War! Great War my ass Steve! Stop trying to be a hero!"

"Then why are you trying to run off and be one?!"

"Stay at home Steve!" yelled Bucky. He sagged heavily into his barstool. "For me. I may never come home. Find a cute girl, buy a house with a white picket fence, and settle down. Do it for me ok?" Under the dim light, Steve grimly saw the taut lines around Bucky's eyes and realized how much older Bucky seemed. Steve didn't respond before Bucky picked up his jacket and pushed his way out of the bar. Steve watched him leave in muted silence.

"I _know_ Bucky. I just...j-just want to stop walking in your shadow."

XXX

 _Vichy France, 1942_

Steve felt his leg jiggle restlessly as another group of the Army of the Armistice, French military loyal to the Nazis, flooded into the small cafe with a few German officers in tow. The other patrons cowed at their raucous entry and shrunk deeper into their seats, cautiously keeping their gazes low and non-confrontational. Steve was slowly trying to relax into his cup of coffee while he internally panicked. Maybe he wasn't fit for the job after all.

" _There's word of a growing French resistance."_

 _Peggy snorted. "Of course. Why wouldn't there be one? All those stories of the French being cowards are rubbish. Take one look at Dunkirk and then try to tell me they're spineless nothings."_

 _There was an uncomfortable silence and the officer previously speaking cleared his throat. "We were hoping that you could send them someone. We have a secure contact that has reached out to us."_

 _Peggy nodded. "I know just the person. He's eager to join the war effort and needs the experience."_

" _May I ask who comes to your mind so readily?"_

" _Someone who's used to be ignored and swept aside."_

" _I would like a name, Peggy."_

 _Peggy's eyes flashed and the officer had the decency to look away. "Steve Rogers. He's been deemed Captain America because of his roadside shows."_

" _You want me to send him? Undercover? You must be mad, Peggy. He's a_ performer _for god's sake."_

" _You wanted a recommendation and he's the only one I'm recommending. You came for my help. I'm giving it to you."_

 _The officer's jaw ticked. "Fine. Send him by and we'll see if he's fit for service."_

Steve glanced nervously at his watch again. He was supposed to be meeting his contact at this very cafe, but they never told him who we was looking for. Peggy had only told him to be there at nine o'clock sharp. Her eyes twinkled when he asked. " _You'll know," she said._

Lost in thought, Steve was jerked back into reality by commotion near the front half of the cafe. Craning his neck, Steve caught a glimpse of the Vichy military roughly jerking an old man to his feet. A yellow band with the Star of David emblazoned on it wrapped around the senior's arm like a vice.

"Tu es un juif! Cochon!"

Although Steve didn't understand what they were saying, he felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. He would blow his cover by getting involved. Contemplating his dilemma, Steve suddenly noticed how quiet it had gotten. Looking up, he saw soldiers bowing and apologizing while a Nazi officer looked on by his side with a disapproving look.

"Ah, j-je regrette mademoiselle. Je vais revenir après. J'espère que vous aurez un bon repas!"

Steve didn't hear the tall woman's reply as her back was turned away from, but he did the Nazi officer bow and plant a kiss on her hand. He muttered something, but Steve saw the subtle shake of her curls to decline some offer. Thoroughly relieved of the tension, Steve nearly turned away when he saw the figure. The air left his lungs at her resemblance. Full cheeks and defined cheekbones. Fiery eyes. Confidence and grace. Even under her coat, Steve could _see_ the muscle and barely contained power. There was no denying it. He was sure he had just found the "Angel of Veld" and his contact.

Diana felt bile rise at the back of her throat when she saw the soldiers harassing the elder who was just trying to enjoy his meal near the front. This wasn't what she had fought for. This isn't what Steve had fought for. The sight left a bitter taste in her mouth as she approached the cafe. However, the disdain must have shown on her face because as the entered, a Nazi officer glanced at her and immediately stood up to scold the French soldier. Diana pasted a strained smile on her face at the Frenchman's apology. When he finally scurried away, Diana turned to request a seat when a warm hand on her wrist stopped her. Chills rippled down her spine as she turned to face the Nazi. He took her hand and planted a kiss on her hand before offering her a seat at his table with the rest of his friends. The looks on their faces told Diana all she needed to know. She politely declined and turned to find another table to the chagrin of the Nazi. Ignoring his dissatisfied grunts and derogatory comment, Diana was led by a waiter to a table nestled soundly in the corner of the cafe. She was pleased to see the elderly man resume finishing his meal, but her happiness was bitter with the knowledge that he would soon face the French soldiers again. _We can't save everyone in this war Diana. This is not what we came here to do._ Diana felt her heart clench as she remembered those words and what she did after them. She did the exact opposite, but this war… this war had already taken so much from her already. It had taken barely over two decades for mankind to tear itself apart again and Diana was starting to have second thoughts.

Lost in her memories, Diana felt a jolt race down her spine when her eyes landed on a man that reminded her of _him._ The man was dressed in drab clothes, but she couldn't but _know_ that this man was American, not French. What was an American doing in German occupied France? She had voluntarily chosen to move to France after 1918 due to memories that were too painful. She happened to be lucky because she picked a country that would soon be the center of a cataclysm. It was only then that she realized she was too late to prevent Ares' handiwork. He had already set in motion the negotiations for a peace that was doomed to fail. So here she was now, trying to find a way to liberate France from the Germans, she abruptly learned, whom were very different in ideology from their predecessors. They were _angry_ this time and if Diana knew anything, she knew anger was the fetid breeding ground of unseeded hate and fear. The Germans in this war were different. Chillingly different.

After ordering a scoop of ice cream, much to the waiter's confusion, Diana let her thoughts wander back to the possible American sitting near her. When her ice cream arrived, she ordered a coffee for him. Picking up her treat, she made her way to his table.

"Merci beaucoup pour votre générosité," Diana said as she sat down, flashing the smile that always garnered another. Steve looked at her in confusion, but when the coffee she ordered a few minutes ago arrived, she motioned at it. Steve sat there nervously. He was pretty sure this was his contact and possibly the "Angel of Veld" he had spent years trying to learn more about. His French was subpar, but he was fairly certain she had just thanked him for his generosity. Steve was so panicked that it wasn't until she was dropping some sugar cubes into the cup that he realized she was leaning in towards him.

"Parlez-vous francais?" Diana whispered, her gaze suddenly cautious and on edge. Steve snapped into focus and nodded.

"Oui, mais juste un peux," he whispered back.

Diana smiled and leaned back. She didn't say anything else as she quickly finished her ice cream and coffee. The man across her seemed to grow even more nervous under her scrutiny. Laying a few bills down on the table, Diana yanked Steve to his feet. "Suis-moi!" Steve only nodded as he felt the simmering power of her pull. It was barely contained, ready to burst out at any moment. He felt a bit disoriented at first, his first time meeting anyone who was equal to him in raw strength, perhaps even stronger, since his transformation. Once they were outside of the cafe, Steve felt Diana lead him down a calm sidewalk for a quiet walk.

"Parlez-vous anglais?"

Steve felt his breath catch tentatively. He glanced nervously at her, but she seemed unperturbed at his hesitance. "Yes."

Steve saw her eyes light up with guarded mirth and her posture relax minutely. She looped her arm around his and leaned into his side. "I believe you are the American contact I've been sent to meet. Welcome to France." Steve shifted and felt her arm tighten around his. "Careful. They have ears everywhere. Stick close." Getting swept up in her walk, Steve felt the woman guide him into a nearby building. "My 'house,'" she said. Closing the door behind her back, both of them finally took a collective sigh of relief.

The woman extended her hand. "Diana. Diana Prince. I am your French contact with the resistance." Steve accepted her hand and gladly shook it, carefully noting the calluses along her fingers and palms.

"Steve Rogers, American soldier." Steve didn't miss the way Diana's smile tightened, her grin a little too bright or the way her stance went stiff. His name, for some reason, was a sore spot for her.

"Well, why don't we get moving Steven?" she asked before turning away to look out the window. Steve quietly noted that she refused to call him by his name. "Steven?"

"Are you… I'm probably going to sound crazy, but… are you the 'Angel of Veld'?" He cautiously inquired. When she didn't respond, he forged on before his nerves could stop him. "Someone told me a story and I've spent years uh...trying to learn more. I‒ it‒ I mean it helped me through a lot. I found a picture… and you look... just like her." Steve winced at his jumbled explanation. Gods, he probably sounded like some creeper stalking his ex-girlfriend.

There was a dead silence in the air and Steve felt like burrowing twenty feet into the ground. His face felt red hot.

"Ah… just forget everything I sai‒"

"Yes. I am."

Steve whipped up to look at her and found that she had turned around again, but this time there was sorrow in her eyes despite the watery smile on her face. "So it's true?"

"Yes."

"Can I‒"

"That is a story for another time, don't you think Captain America?"

Her tone commanded finality on the subject and Steve felt goosebumps rise at her casual mention of his name. How did she know his alias?

"The resistance only chose to accept you because of your so called superpowers Steven….but I know true power and courage when I see it."

Steve felt uncomfortable in Diana's presence. She felt otherworldly and was strange in a world that was already too strange. However, she smiled and it was gentle. "I don't wish harm Steven. We'll stay here tonight and I'll take you to meet the rest tomorrow."

XXX

Steve's first meeting with the rest of the French resistance got off to a tense start. They had heard rumors of his supposedly superhuman strength, but they were men and women of proof. In this war, they couldn't risk going off rumors. They would deem him worthy once he proved himself on the battlefield. Steve was a bit worried his American friends had dropped him off at the wrong place for the wrong job. He was a misfit, even here. His difficulty with French was already a reason for tense contention. They were unwilling to believe the Americans had sent them someone who barely spoke a word a of French. Arrogant, they had called it.

The only person that Steve felt comfortable with was Diana. She gave him a gentle smile and reassuring pat on the back when he stuttered out a broken sentence in front of disapproving French resistance members. She volunteered to tutor him. In a few days, Steve could understand basic conversations and anything of importance.

Their first mission was a baptism by fire. It was supposed to be an ambush on an encampment to harass the Nazis and crush morale. At 6:00 in the morning, they would go in guns blazing. On the outskirts of Vichy France in the forest terrain, Steve and his comrades stealthily set out. Diana bid a farewell, but stayed behind. " _This is_ your _battle... and someone needs to hold down home base,"_ she had said.

They made their way through the dense undergrowth to surround the camp. A few snipers climbed the trees in the dark before sunrise. Steve settled behind a log next to a Frenchman. A few more members settled in the tall grasses.

5:57

5:58

5:59

Baited breaths. Steve's heart pounded. Blood roared through his ears. His hands were cold. It finally set in.

This is _war._

Tremors ripped through the ground. Steve's vision rocked and his ears were ringing. Grenade. Fire and smoke. Chaotic screaming. Yells.

Unexperienced with the true ferocity of war, Steve felt himself freeze up while bullets whistled over his head. The man next to him grunted and pulled the pin off another grenade. He lobbed it without stopping to see where it landed or who it hit.

"Monsieur America," his friend said cheekily as he fired off another round over the log. He vaulted over the wood. Smoke swallowed his figure. Steve tentatively climbed over. He landed with a squelch. Blood. Steve fell backwards in horror. Pounding feet roared by.

"Allons y!"

There was a chilling rattle of fire. Thumps against the ground. Instinctively, Steve brought his shield up, just as bullets ricocheted off. An angry Frenchman dove near Steve. "Allons! Y!" Steve shakily nodded and crawled up. He started running forward with his shield. Bullets pinged off. Steve's stomach twisted at the carnage.

Suddenly, Steve collided with a body and when he looked down he saw a young, frightened German soldier. For a moment, Steve saw himself on the ground in the dirty alleys, beaten and bruised. Unsure of what to do, Steve felt his muscles lock. He couldn't move. Even amidst the chaos, Steve heard a furious holler thrown in his direction. It cut through the smoke, clear as day. To his horror, he saw the boy's head knock backwards violently as a sniper hit the boy square between the eyes. It only took a split second. Steve fell to his knees and nearly threw up at the hot spray that splattered on his face. The gunfight escalated and it was soon obvious that the French were outnumbered. There were angry French cries and Steve was in a daze as he was yanked to his feet and rushed back to base.

 _This_ was war.

XXX

Steve stared blankly at the wall in front of him. He had tried to wipe the brain matter and blood off his face, but it just stained his blue outfit and hands. He promptly collapsed and vomited into a trashcan when they returned to the base. He couldn't erase Diana's expression from his mind when he returned though.

There was a muffled argument between Diana and the ambush leader in the room behind him. Steve could only bury his head in between his hands. He had failed everybody and himself. He looked up forlornly when Diana exited.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

"Steven."

"It's Steve, Diana. Please. Please, just get my name right!" Steve watched Diana's expression go soft at his emotional outburst. "I.. I just need to know who I am. If I'm not Captain America or Steve Rogers… then who am I?"

"Ste‒,"

"What am I meant to do if I can't do… anything?"

Diana felt her next words die in her throat. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she gently brought it up to Steve's face. Diana rubbed it gently, cleansing his face of any blood. Steve leaned into her comforting touch. Diana wordlessly opened her arms and Steve fell into her kind embrace. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes and he wept quietly.

"I'm no superhero Diana."

"Nor do I expect you to be."

"Then maybe I should go home."

"No, Steven. We need you, no matter what we say."

Diana held Steve like a mother would and they sat in silence for a few long minutes.

"Do you know why I told you that I was the 'Angel of Veld' Steven?" she asked quietly.

"...No."

"Because it gave you hope. Because it gave those men in the trenches hope. Because it gave… him... hope. I am no hero, Steven. I'm just a woman following what I believe… because what I believe makes me who I am."

"Then what…"

"That you'll have to figure out yourself Steven." A pause. "…This war has tested me. I'm almost not so sure about myself either anymore."

Steve and Diana sat in comfortable silence after that. They relaxed into each other. For the first time in years, Steve felt like he had a mother again.

"Let's get you cleaned up. Wash up and go sleep a little. Tomorrow morning, meet me down here at 7:00." Steve turned around in astonishment. Diana let a smile slip. "They've asked me to train you. Don't be late."

XXX

Steve stood bewildered in a tiny cellar far below the ground. He watched in awe as she opened her cloak, revealing armor. It looked no different than it did in the photo. Ernest's descriptions were accurate. She really did look like a mythical goddess.

"You're lucky Steven. I've rarely donned this armor for anyone, but I believe you have power that you're running from."

"This power came at a cost."

Diana's voice came out soft. "Then use it in remembrance. Like me." When he looked up, he saw that Diana had that faraway look in her eyes.

"Are you ready?" she asked after some length. Steve shifted into his fighting stance like Peggy had taught him before he left.

"Yes."

"Then show me what you've got."

She was like a flash and Steve didn't see her move. He quickly tensed behind his shield. She had covered the distance between them in mere seconds.

"You're not human…"

She winked. "Demigod. Don't tell the rest of them‒ they don't know yet." She gave him a little smile. "And you're not exactly human anymore either."

Steve threw his shield up in defense. It vibrated violently at her first blow. His teeth rattled when her bracelet came down for the second blow. Each punch rained down harder than the last. He was nervous at the ferocity of her pummeling. Steve was even pushed back at the force of her punches.

"Steven. I need you to hit me."

"I‒ I can't! Diana!"

Steve felt his confidence shatter when he felt the shield dislodged from his grip. Diana kicked low, sweeping Steve off his legs. The world around him teetered as he fell on his back. Diana rushed down, her fist whizzing. Panicking, Steve brought his arms up to defend himself as she went in for the final blow. It never came.

"You expect a battle to be fair. It will never be Steven! This is war. We cannot hide from darkness. Get up and fight! Fight for those who cannot! Is that not why you chose to become a super soldier?" Steve nodded and gingerly stood up. He raised his fists. Diana saw the fire come alive in his eyes. She felt her lips quirk. "That's it, Steven. You're already halfway there."

Over the course of a few weeks, Diana relentlessly trained Steve in hand to hand combat without his shield. When she deemed him proficient, she too revealed her shield. He marveled at its heaviness and ancient design. It heavily contrasted his lightweight, bright shield. Yet Diana taught him how to throw them with deadly accuracy and force, demolishing targets and nearly bringing down the building when they embedded in the concrete. And whenever he caught a glimpse of her sword, its blade glittering dangerously, he gaped at it. Soon, the resistance members started placing bets during their spars, eager to watch two powerful "humans" duke it out. Steve was surprised that they didn't of her true origins. Steve's relationship with the French also improved. They watched him grow and above all, trusted Diana's teaching.

"Thank you for everything," Steve said after one of their spars. He was panting hard, but she looked no worse for the wear. She smiled that smile of hers.

"I have one more thing to teach you."

Steve quirked his eyebrows. "I thought we were done?"

She laughed at his quip. "How's your upper body strength? Are your arms feeling ok?"

"No worse for the wear."

"Good. I want you to hold your shield like this. Wait. Up a little. Yes. Just like that. And hold it. Good."

Steve nodded and waited for further instructions, but when none came he looked around his shield. "Diana?" He was surprised to see her eyes covered with a glassy sheen and a bittersweet smile adorning her face.

"That's perfect… Steven. Just get into this position if I ever call 'shield' in battle ok?" Steve nodded slowly.

"Diana… are you ok?"

"And brace yourself. Hard." Steve nodded mutely as he watched Diana silently clean up and leave.

"Why don't you ever call me Steve, Diana?"

She froze. "That is a conversation I would rather not have," she whispered so quietly that Steve almost didn't hear. Whirling around, she smiled and it was distant once again. "Congratulations Captain America. I officially deem you fit for service."

XXX

Steve's second mission was sabotage. This time, it was a German base that was heavily fortified. The Nazis were using it as a tank refueling and supply center. The day they were to strike was just after when two companies of panzers rolled out. It would eliminate any chances of reinforcements. The French resistance was eager this time. Steve was also elated, but then he realized why they were _truly_ excited. Diana was coming. There had been rumors of her power circulating, but everyone wanted to witness it with their own eyes. There were already speculations and bets that she wasn't human too, but she seemed unfazed by it. It was war after all. They could be dismissed as tall tales and Diana would fade into obscurity again. It happened once and it could happen again.

"Are you not worried that they'll find out?"

"I'm prepared for them to."

"...A demigod... The Nazis will hunt you until the ends of the Earth, Diana."

Diana flashed a smile and her eyes twinkled. "I'm not one to be trifled with, Steven. You of all people should know that best." Steve returned her grin tentatively as they fell into step, leaves crunching below their feet. Streaks of blazing orange and yellow sliced the sky open. The rising chill indicated the approaching night.

It wasn't long before the darkness finally settled in. Large, heavy clouds shrouded the blinking stars and wan moonlight. The woods they were trekking through came to life, usual sounds permeating the silence with only the sounds of their footfalls out of place.

"Taisez-vous!"

Everyone suddenly froze, kneeling silently. Diana ducked down, her muscles taut with tension. Steel entered her normally gentle eyes. Steve followed suit. Overhead, the loud telltale noise of a plane wailed by. The group pressed itself deeper into the dirt, hoping to conceal themselves. Baited breaths. Taut muscles. Hearts racing. They had come too far to be stopped. When the plane finally disappeared from sight, it was as if the night itself had taken a sigh of relief. Steve slowly started to rise until a hand pressed itself against his chest. Diana shook her head.

"Be patient, Steven," she whispered. After five minutes, the group tensely started out again. "Dorniers. Their newest ones."

"Dor‒ what?"

"Germany's newest bomber and night-fighter." Diana's jaws clenched. _Bombing raids. Innocents._

"Diana… are you alright?"

Diana nodded quietly, her thoughts somewhere else. "Promise me that you'll come back." Steve blinked at Diana's sudden request.

"Of course."

When they finally arrived at the base, the conversation had died. The dark imposing figure of the building loomed over them, casting an ominous shadow. Everyone's faces were hardened masks of indifference. Even Diana's brow was wrinkled. As they crept closer, someone raised their arm. A tense pause. The few patrolling guards dropped like stones. A wave. On cue, the groups split, dragging the bodies away and moving to surround the entrances. Steve and Diana parted ways. Diana felt her heart clench in worry as she watched Steve's figure disappear around the corner. _He can handle it on his own. He'll be ok. He's grown._ Shaking the doubt off, Diana led her resistance members to a steel door. On the other side, Steve did the same. He glanced at his watch. 1:10: 36. Diana slid her arm into her shield. The second hand crept towards the top of the minute. Steve unlatched his shield. Diana closed her eyes. Steve took a breath.

1:11:11

The doors to the base rocketed off their hinges. Diana burst forward, bullets bouncing off her shield. _Right._ Swinging her arm, a German soldier was down for the count. Resistance members flooded in after her. _Left._ Diana launched upwards, bringing her shield downwards. It knocked against a helmeted head _hard._ She landed heavily, the ground shaking. Diana looked up as the hallways swarmed with Nazis. _Forward._

Steve heard his shield connect with a satisfying punch before it boomeranged back. Catching it deftly, he threw it again. Ricocheting off the walls, it took down a line of five Germans. Suddenly, the death rattle of rapid fire bullets lit up the room. French cries. Bolting, Steve desperately launched his shield. It clanged noisily. The bullets quieted.

Diana raced forward, her shield punching its way around the base. Her hallway opened up into a larger room. A flash of blue and red. Bursting forward, Diana saw Steve's figure emerge amongst the smoke. "Steven!"

Steve whipped around and saw Diana. They exchanged brief smiles.

"Dia‒"

An ugly wail cut off his voice. The heroes and resistance members tensed. The alarm was never supposed to go off.

Diana grabbed Steve. "The communications room. Let's go."

They burst in, scaring the soldier so much that he fell out of his chair. Quickly knocking him out, they made quick work of the systems and radios, disabling them before they could call for more backup. Once finished, they raced out into the chaotic night as gunfights raged on. Resistance members and Nazis faced off, desperate to live. Steve watched in amazement as bullets and sparks flew off Diana's bracelets. Together, they were a blur of red and blue on the battlefield. With shields whizzing and gold light cutting through the field, it finally looked like the French resistance could escape.

A shrill scream cut through the haze and smoke. Both Diana and Steve rapidly pivoted around. The tanks roared in, crashing through the trees. The resistance members scattered in panic as the panzers blew the ground to tatters. Steve dove for cover when the turrets turned to him. He frantically turned to Diana, but she was still standing, stance defiant.

"Diana!"

An explosion ripped through the air. Steve watched in horror as she flew backwards. Diana felt her ears ring when she landed on her back. Yet, she sat up, cracked her neck, and _smiled_. "Improved, but still not good enough."

Steve watched in amazement as Diana propelled forward and the tank went flying. Frenzied Nazis fled the rolling tank. Steve cut them off and knocked them out in rapid succession. Diana unsheathed her sword and lashed right. Wood and metal splintered. The German stumbled backwards as his gun crumbled. Quickly grabbing the blade end, Diana swung the hilt of her sword at another soldier on her right.

Steve swept his leg, knocking over a Nazi aiming at a fleeing resistance member. To Steve's surprise, the Nazi grabbed his uniform when he went down. They both went tumbling into the dirt, bullets whizzing overhead. The soldier punched. Steve winced as it connected. Winding up, Steve let his fist fly. The Nazi scrambled to bring his arms up. In that split second, Steve remembered to pull his punch. It was still enough to knock the soldier out. "Pull it together, Steve. Don't lose control."

The ominous rumble of an approaching tank forced Steve to bring up his shield. Bullets shredded trees and foliage. Screams of wounded comrades and Nazis rang out. Without thinking, Steve launched his shield again. Metal hit metal. Smoke started pouring into the sky. Nazis streamed out, coughing but looking for blood.

"Replions-nous! Replions-nous!"

Steve, Diana, and the resistance members started to retreat. Pulling away into the darkness of night, they ran quickly, hoping to leave before daylight fell. Blood pounding, Steve pulled a wounded resistance member to his feet and started running. Diana fell alongside him. "We have to leave. More tanks will be on their way once they hear of what happened." Steve nodded grimly and tried to run faster with his injured friend. "Steven! Look out!"

Diana shoved Steve forward and threw her shield up. "Get down. They're covering us with machine fire from above the hill. Bunker."

Steve quickly turned to his comrade who stared back with frightened eyes. "I need you to follow the rest. Diana and I will cover our retreat." The man nodded rapidly and scurried off. Diana nodded and smiled at Steve.

"Ready?"

"As ready as you are."

The two dashed back into danger, shields out. Diana lashed forward with her lasso, whipping a soldier off his feet. Strafing right, she snapped her left wrist up. A bullet boomeranged away. She dove and rolled into a sweeping of her feet. The Nazi missed his blow, and Diana cleared a radius around herself.

Steve pulled ahead and hurled his shield again. It sent an officer flying. Fire blazed across the battlefield and Steve still heard the sinister sound of the machine gun. Smoke clouded his vision. It was absolute chaos until he heard Diana's voice cut clear and sharp through the smoke.

"SHIELD!"

Ducking quickly, Steve braced himself and his arms as the telltale pound of her running footsteps approached. Suddenly, he felt a heavy impact. Grunting, Steve drove his arms upwards. He heard wild German and rapid fire. A loud boom shattered the battlefield. He gazed in awe as Diana demolished the machine gun fortifications. The bunker exploded into bits of concrete and metal, dust raining down as the battlefield went silent at her superhuman display of power.

The Germans cowered. They slowly backed away in terror. Diana emerged triumphant, a smile on her face. She jumped back down, the ground rumbling when she landed. Diana turned. It was enough to send the Nazis running. They ran until they came across the panzers that had turned around after receiving a distress signal. All the high ranking officers could coherently pick up was shields, woman, and American. The message that was sent before communications were cut was even more puzzling.

 _Send help. Two superhumans. Gods. Hurry._

Time and time again, it frustrated the Third Reich to no end that they had let two valuable assets slip through their fingers.

XXX

Steve graciously accepted the mug of cider Diana offered him, but set it aside.

"You've grown so much Steven."

"Thank you for everything Diana." The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence as they gazed into the stars twinkling against the black backdrop of the night sky. The cool air nipped at their noses, turning them a rosy red. It wasn't lost on Diana at how familiar the situation felt. She ran her fingers around the frosty cup and sipped the ember liquid slowly. It warmed her insides and reminded her of her Steve. Diana glanced sideways at the man beside her and felt her heart swell. He could never replace him, not in that way, but his tenacity reminded her of him. _I wish we had more time._

"Have you figured it out yet?" Her voice came out quiet and restrained.

Steve turned to Diana and was surprised to find her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "...I'm still not sure yet. But after this war, I think liberty...freedom… or something like that is up there on my list."

"Liberty?"

"Liberty, but not unquestioning loyalty… I think."

Diana hummed and nodded. "Times change. We change."

"I mean… of course we change."

Diana turned, her smile watery. "So sometimes our beliefs will change… it bends to the will of time. It alters us and that's when we think. Think hard about who we truly are and what we truly want."

"Do… if I may...?"

"Mm."

"Do you… speak from experience?"

"Yes." A pause. "Thank you for bringing me back. I almost walked away."

Unspoken words hung in the air, but Steve didn't push. They fell into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts. Minutes ticked by. The constellations and moon danced across the sky together. Steve was bought out his reverie when someone tugged lightly at his arm. It was one of his French comrades and the grim expression on his face dropped a stone in Steve's stomach. Diana watched in mild interest as Steve accepted the telegram and opened it to read its contents. She could tell the moment she saw Steve break as he sagged against the railing.

"D-Diana. I-I have to go," Steve barely uttered. He suddenly looked older and more mature. Diana felt her heart clench at the familiarity. When he looked up she that his tears made his blue eyes even clearer, just like his. His blonde hair glowed in the dull moonlight. "My friend Bucky… his… the 107th… they're in trouble. Italy."

Diana felt her heart beat painfully as she brought her hand out to cup his face. "Go. Go to him. He's important to you."

"But the resistanc‒"

"Is in a good position because of you." She reached out to ruffle his hair gently. Steve imagined if he ever had a big sister that was how it would feel. He nodded grimly and grabbed his jacket. Diana watched his retreating figure that reminded her of _Steve's_ just a few years back. Gently stroking the watch on her wrist, Diana took a long draw at her cider. As Steve opened the door to the stairs leading down, he didn't miss her goodbye. It was all he needed to hear, but it had confirmed his suspicions.

"Good bye again Steve."

XXX

Steve panted heavily as he launched his shield at another Chitauri, watching it tear through its neck before it bounced off an overturned bus and returned to him. At his side, he watched Natasha empty another clip into a particularly large Chitauri. They both looked up when they heard the telltale whine of a flying enemy approaching.

Natasha squinted as a few flew overhead. "I could use a boost to get up there."

Steve smiled while Natasha searched for an overturned vehicle tall enough for her to jump from. "Natasha!" Black Widow whipped around, an eyebrow quirked at Captain America's stance. "Run. I'll launch you." Natasha must have looked incredulous because he reassured her. "Trust me. I've done this before."

Natasha smirked. "Alright. I'm sure it'll be fun." Backing up, she quickly rushed forward, jumped onto a car for leverage, and aimed for Steve's shield. Steve braced himself as he watched Natasha race forward. There was loud pounding and she jumped. He felt the familiar force of feet on his shield and propelled it up right as a large flying Chitauri roared by. Natasha soared up, just like a certain Wonder Woman he knew.

Steve Rogers smiled.

* * *

 **A/N: So that was a journey. I'm still pretty unused to writing action scenes and pacing correctly, so please let me know if it didn't work. Also, please let me know if I butchered the French. As always, please review and help me improve!**


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